


Epiphany

by irene_yongie



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Catholic Imagery, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten-centric, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Love at First Sight, M/M, No Dialogue, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers, Ten is in a bad place, Ten isn't drunk tho, almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irene_yongie/pseuds/irene_yongie
Summary: Lost in the middle of a feverish club, Ten finds his soulmate."With a smile so blinding Ten wants it to be the last thing he ever sees, Taeyong takes his hand, takes his heart, takes his entire life.Alleluia."
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	Epiphany

The club is filled with noise, loud basses, and sweaty people. Ten’s drink tastes somehow sour and bitter at the same time. Five years ago, he never thought he’d ever get bored of Whiskey-Coke or Vodka-Redbull, but the parties had slipped under his feet in flashes of memories and thumping headaches as he threw up in the toilet the next day. Yet here is, in the middle of a nightclub, the type of place he used to get out of his mind all his problems. He’s supposed to be grinning uncontrollably, to trip and fall and laugh about it, to connect with people with a dumb joke before forgetting them a minute later, but sat on his stool, he observes now with disgust how there’s more alcohol on the floor than there is in the glasses, how people are always saying the same dumbshit and the same lame pick-up lines and how much, he realizes with a horrifying indifference, he’s bored. Alone, in the middle of the party, simply waiting until Johnny comes back from fuck know’s where so he can get his fucking cigarettes back and go take a smoke in the intoxicating smokehouse.

He wonders when he became so lonely. He used to be the center of attention, always — almost. Even when he wasn’t, still, he used to be someone who’d captivate people and attract admiration. Now, his own dullness would upset him, if he cared enough. The ghost of himself he turned into doesn’t have the type of energy to give a fuck about himself. So then, how would he have the energy he’s supposed to have to give his friends the attention they want — and honestly, deserve? He wants to say they’re no longer surprised when he yet again dodges or cancels plans, but it’s been long overdue since they even tried to invite him somewhere. The only one who still does is Johnny. Ten doesn’t understand why. Maybe he’s feeling like he owes Ten his friendship after all the years they’ve spent together. After all, they’re childhood friends. Selfishly, Ten’s relieved and happy Johnny does it, considerately, he wishes Johnny would let go of a friendship that’s only hurting him.

So in the end, Ten ended up lonely gradually, little by little, cutting off people without realizing it one by one, drowning himself into work and being miserable, as he grew colder and colder.

He’d like to say he wished they didn’t leave, and in a way, he does, but he’d lie to say they made him happy. He likes the idea of having friends — no, he worships the idea of having friends, he’s run after it his whole life — but in practical application… it doesn’t work out. Not that he didn’t try. Oh, god, not that he didn’t put his whole heart, soul, and energy into some bounds he had with people. And it’s not that his friends were bad people. But he never felt like himself with any of them, the fear always crept up and he ended up chewing on his nails because he was feeling inadequate. He made mistakes too. Maybe he chose the wrong ones to get attached to, maybe they didn’t want it to work as much as he did. Why would he try again? Doesn’t a ghost chasing after lost fantasies sound ridiculous?

For fuck’s sake, where’s Johnny?!

Screw his the smokehouse, he’ll smoke his cigarettes on the way home, the cold biting his cheeks and the heat burning his lungs. That’s the good shit, him, far away from broken dreams reflecting in the pink lightings. Fuck. It’s so loud and flashy he can already feel the headache coming.

Not being able to explain how, or why so suddenly, anger froths at his mouth. He gets enraged to the point he might just spit on someone, just to piss them off, just to start a fight, just to relieve the black hole in his chest, just to hope to get knocked off and not wake up.

He sighs and takes a sip of his whiskey, deflated. Now his thoughts are going there. He should just leave without his cigarettes. He’ll text Johnny and will only be met by the biting cold. Good enough.

“Hi, dude.” A big hand slaps on his shoulder, and Ten would consider wringing its wrist, if he didn’t recognize Johnny’s drunken voice. “How you doin’? Gotcha another whiskey-coke. Oh, you didn’t touch yours? You good here?”

As Johnny was having a little conversation by himself, the song had switched and lights had turned to this stroboscopic effect, turning the little upside-down universe of the club into fits and starts. Ten might throw up.

“Yeah, no, I’m good. It’s just, you know, I think I’m a little old for clubs... It’s just, there’s so many…” He gestures to the crowd, faces melting into one another, and as he’s about to finish his sentence, "people” fades on his tongue and he’s left starstruck.

Something shifts in his heart as his eyes lay on what must be the most gorgeous face he’s ever seen. There’s no place in his mind to think he’s behaving like a foolish teenager as pure admiration breaths into him and overwhelms him. Somehow to Ten, in the stroboscopic white lights, the man’s features align with an image of the crying Madonna, as if he was wearing tears of sparkles. He’s innocent and transcending. In his delicate pupils with silver applied on his eyelids, in his smooth skin, in the tenderness of his curls, and in the curve of his lips, Ten sees beauty like he never thought he’d encounter, a purity so immaculate he feels compelled to say ‘Alleluia’. He doesn’t, because his breath is hitched in his throat.

The man’s eyes fall onto Ten, and abruptly, despite the darkness and confusion, everything lights up.

He’s no longer cold, lost, or alone, but sent into an indescribable state you’d try to characterize by euphoria. Why is everything so blurry? It is only him, or did the music stop? Is it the world or just his head that’s spinning?

His throat has gotten dry, and he knows the answer to his questions. In fact, he feels like he just got the answer to all his questions. Ten doesn’t see beauty, he sees the light.

He sees the light. His whole word has just been blown up, with all its pieces held in the air as if time had stopped, yet everything falls at its right place. Certainty grows in him, no, reveals itself to him. The certainty that this man, right here, is the love of his life. Because he knows a feeling couldn't be so powerful and purer, more overwhelming yet delicate, more vertiginous but not frightening in the slightest. Because it’s as if he’s lived his whole life, only to be right here, right. He knows he’s been waiting for this man. He didn’t know he was waiting for him. He’s met his angel. Alleluia.

Before his eyes, unfolds a love he’d never thought was possible. He doesn’t care that it's too surreal to be possible, because, in fact, this thought doesn’t even cross his mind. He knows that this man will turn his life upside down, that Ten will tenderly let him do it, that he’ll give his everything to return at least an ounce of the goodness the man will bring to him, that adoring him is the rightest thing he could ever do, and that their love will grow strong like thorns and beautiful like red roses, warmed by the rays of sunshine. He doesn’t know how, because he feels already as if darkness had never existed, but this man will give him the strength to heal himself.

It hits like a lightning bolt, the knowledge they’ll spend the rest of their lives together. Ten will court him as no one had ever wooed someone. He’ll bring him to this adorable coffee shop, then this bookshop where he’ll pick up his favorite book and write him delicate lines of poetry on the first page in secret. He’ll let himself be taken anywhere where he wants to go. it wouldn’t be through hell and back, because such a creature doesn’t belong there, but he’d do it in a heartbeat if asked. They’ll be accidentally screaming they love each other for the first time in the middle of a dumb argument, immediately stopping said argument because they’ll be crying and laughing. They’ll be saying “I love you a million times more after this one. They will spend nights cackling and smoking, drinking, making silly plans about becoming secret agents, ignoring they have to work the next morning. They will be family.

And if the details change and nothing happens like he’s planned, he doesn’t mind because he knows it will be heaven nonetheless. And if he’s not worthy of it, he’ll die trying to be.

The man smiles at him, and the light touches his soul, gentle and beautiful. A gentle smile that tells Ten the man knows he’s met his soulmate. Ten grins automatically, giddiness bubbling up.

Without thinking, he grabs the glass Johnny holds, ignoring even the possibility Johnny’s talking to him, and he walks toward him. The floor trembles and his heart beats too fast. He doesn’t hear anything but distant echoes. It’s okay because he knows he’s safe.

Two glasses in his hands, one for himself, one for his destiny, he’s here. From up close, it becomes even more glaringly obvious how they’re meant for each other.

“I’m Taeyong.” The man says, and it’s probably covered by the music, but Ten hears it anyway.

“I’m Ten.” He answers and Taeyong giggles, knocking Ten’s breath out of his lungs. The sound is so pretty, the way his smile widens is so pretty, the way his nose crunches is so pretty.

They’ll never be alone again. They’ll never be cold again. They’ll never be lost again. They’re together.

“Do you want to dance?” Ten asks. Truth is, he doesn’t really know how to dance.

With a smile so blinding Ten wants it to be the last thing he ever sees, Taeyong takes his hand, takes his heart, takes his entire life.

Alleluia.


End file.
